Moisture after the storm.
Smell of wellbeing, and diaphanous light
that repairs, delimits and draws
the virtual line of the shift
from one body to another. Transition.
Cheerful invisible swirls
that blend in smell,
land, air and water.
And once again, the smell of wellbeing
that inevitably brings with it
the nausea of sewers,
which in their underground agitation
arouse moisture made of
whirlpools of forgotten lives.
Carles Gabarró